


a spacetime singularity

by tonysnarks



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Disintegration, Fuck you david cage, Infinity War, M/M, Sad, and it has dialogue from the tony/peter moment, god i'm so fucking sad, i'm so sorry in advance, it's literally the scene where everyone disappears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 09:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15682338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonysnarks/pseuds/tonysnarks
Summary: The loss is hot and burning in his throat this time. Markus can only hold on to empty air now, and he realizes it when he stands up and looks at the snow-crested battlefield. Everywhere, he watches Jericho’s people crumble into dust, their guns clattering in the stillness of their final cries, their remains floating in the biting breeze.They have lost. They have failed.He looks for anyone, any kind of survivor in the midst of it all, and then there’s a flash of blond hair. Markus almost wishes he hadn’t seen it.Or, the alternate ending where DBH suddenly turns into the ending of Infinity War.





	a spacetime singularity

**Author's Note:**

> i really recommend listening to "a spacetime singularity," composed by johann johannsson. i used it to write this and it makes it ten times better. enjoy.

Josh is the first one to go. 

It starts at his hands — his skin peels away from his fingers, and he begins to fade away into the falling snow. Markus drops his gun in panic and scrambles to him, fumbling to get a hold on Josh’s shoulder’s like it should be enough to make him stay.

“What’s happening to me?” Josh cries, and the desperation in his voice makes Markus’ heart shatter. “What’s happening, Markus?”

Markus opens his mouth but he can’t speak, because he’s doesn’t know how to stop it. And he’s so tired. So goddamn tired, even though it shouldn’t even possible. He can only watch helplessly as the flaking spreads, until it reaches Josh’s waist and he stumbles forward, collapsing into a pile of dead pieces when he hits the ground.

Perkins is standing at the military barrier. Smiling. 

Josh is gone. It sinks in like a knife, and Markus can do so much as choke back a sob and step back from his pile of ashes. 

This is bigger than him. This isn’t just shooting and revolution and war.

And Markus, for the first time, doesn’t know what to do.

_Markus._

North’s voice echoes in his head, directing him to look to his left. She’s crouched behind a concrete barrier, reaching out to him with fading hands.

_Markus, help me._

He’s running before he knows it, but North is already halfway gone, and by the time he lunges out to grab her hand, to stop her from going, she’s disintegrated with the wet snow. 

The loss is hot and burning in his throat this time. Markus can only hold on to empty air now, and he realizes it when he stands up and looks at the snow-crested battlefield. Everywhere, he watches Jericho’s people crumble into dust, their guns clattering in the stillness of their final cries, their remains floating in the biting breeze.

They have lost. They have failed.

He looks for anyone, any kind of survivor in the midst of it all, and then there’s a flash of blond hair. Markus almost wishes he hadn’t seen it. 

Simon — oh god, Simon — comes slipping and sliding through the snow. He’s okay, he’s right there, he’s… clutching at a gaping blue wound in his chest. Markus doesn’t make the mistake of freezing this time — he runs straight for Simon and collides with him, scrabbling to get a hold on his jacket, his shoulders, anything to steady the both of them. 

“Stay,” Markus gasps out.

Simon feels fragile in his grasp, delicate and weak. “I don’t feel so good, Markus…” he says shakily. 

“You’re alright.”

It’s a lie, and they both know it. But Markus can’t think, he can only see Simon, Simon’s blue eyes and blue-stained lips.

“I don’t — I don’t know what’s happening,” Simon stammers, gripping Markus’ arms so tightly he feels numb, “I can’t — please — Markus — _save me_ —”

Suddenly he buckles into Markus, grabbing him round the neck to keep from falling.

“I don’t want to go,” says Simon, and he’s crying now, crying blue-tinged tears into the warmth of Markus’ chest, “I don’t wanna go, Markus, I don’t wanna go, please.”

And inside, Markus breaks, because he realizes Simon is going to leave him again. Except this time, he’s not coming back. The flakes of his ankles are starting to drift upward in the wind, and Markus can see them, and he feels so weak, so fucking scared and weak and tired that his own legs give out, and they both fall to the ground, the mix of snow and dust cold against the hands cradling Simon’s head.

Markus’ eyes burn with tears, but he can’t cry, he shouldn’t. He needs to be able to see those cerulean blue eyes; his only light in the darkness.

“I’m sorry, Markus,” Simon whispers.

“No,” Markus says, and then he’s sobbing, choking over Simon just like he did with Carl, and that just make him feel worse, feel like liquid, feel like he’ll never ever be whole again. “No, you can’t go. I just want you to stay, okay, just stay, that’s all I want.”

After everything, after this, Simon is his last love. And he can’t let that go.

“Don’t,” Markus pleads, almost delirious now, “don’t go, Simon, please don’t leave, come on. You can’t. You can’t, anyway, because you’re all I have left, you’re all I have, Simon, I love you, please.”

And he’s trying to spit out more, but he can’t, because his throat feels blocked and he can only rest his head against Simon’s chest, oh god his chest oh god it’s so cold and still rising and Markus should have said all of this earlier and he can’t let go he can’t he can’t he can’t he needs Simon he needs North he needs Josh he _just needs time._

Simon looks so sleepy in the shadows. He pushes Markus back, gently, always so gentle, and holds out his hand, the skin pulled back. An offering. Markus takes it with his own.

Then, a flash.

A string of memories blaze into Markus’ mind — of Jericho, of their first meeting, of their reuniting hug, of everything happy Simon can think of, pouring into Markus. 

It ends as quickly as it starts, and Simon withdraws his hand. So, so tired. So blue. So blond.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

Markus feels it happen, feels Simon’s chest start to give way, and then his face, and then the last of his blue eyes start to fade, to crumble away into dust, and he is gone for the last time.

Markus hits the ground. Everything bitter and stinging in his throat disappears, and suddenly he’s too exhausted to cry. Too empty. A gaping loss replaces the place in his chest where Simon should be, right by his heart. All he can do is lie there now, in the icing-sugar snow. Shaking.

“No,” he says to the ground. “No, no, no, no, no.”

He’s never screamed before; hasn’t had any reason to. But with Simon’s grit against his fingers, the losses of everyone he’s ever loved, Markus screams into the night until he feels like his lung components will tear. 

Everything is lost.

He stays there till he hears Perkins crunching in the snow behind him. There’s a familiar click of a bullet loading into the chamber of a gun, and the dust shifting beneath his feet as Perkins adjusts his stance.

Markus doesn’t even try to fight back. To flee. 

He thinks of Simon’s laughter, soft through his nose and crinkled at the eyes.

Markus closes his eyes and lets the bullet come.


End file.
